


Rose-Coloured Fever Dream

by I_sleep_on_roses



Category: Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 23:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10977993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_sleep_on_roses/pseuds/I_sleep_on_roses
Summary: Salieri, Mozart, Stephanie, and Sussmayr take over as accurately named rock band The Troublemakers, but will the four of them get into more than they can handle?





	Rose-Coloured Fever Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to my weakly plotted band au fic. The chapters will most likely grow in size as I figure out what I'm doing lol. Mildly inspired by Lemisloony's Divine Libertines!
> 
> ((Warning: this story will have descriptive sex scenes, but I'll tag them so you can skip as you please.))

He knew him through Aloysia. She'd mention her ex at the band's after-parties, and described him as “A sparkly peacock of a madman.” Antonio had never met the guy before, but he was making waves in the online music scene. The CEO of Vienna Records, Joe Adam, insisted they needed a new frontman to spice things things up, and Johann was hellbent on getting Wolfgang Mozart to audition.

Wolfgang Mozart had dark brown hair with little shocks of blond throughout it and a lock growing out longer than all the rest on the side of his head. With a wardrobe as extra as his reputation, he wore two shirts, flannel tied over his ripped jeans, rags tied on his wrists, and enough necklaces to sink him if fell in a lake. He was babbling incessantly to Caterina Cavalieri, a good friend to the band who sometimes played backup vocals for them, completely unaware that the mic had cleared. Mr. Rosenberg, a modestly well-known journalist invited there on Joe's request, cleared his throat several times but to no avail. Wolfgang let out a high-pitched giggle, and Johann shifted uncomfortably in his chair, sharing awkward glances with Franz.

Finally it was Salieri who shut it down.

  
"Hey, Bleach Splatter Hair,” he shouted to the stage in a commanding tone, " _ You _ are up next. Unless you'd like to make way for the next singer?"

  
"Maybe that's for the best, Antonio," Mr. Rosenberg piped in, "I've heard some of Mr. Mozart's personal songs. It's too much. The crowd won't take to it."

  
"What do you mean by that?" Wolfgang was peeved now. "I haven't even sung one word yet. You can't judge me like that!"   
"Oh, but we can,"

  
Rosenberg was having fun riling him up. He did it to all the newbies.

  
"Your songs are an earache. There's too many chords."   
"Oh, I'll show-"   
Rosenberg checked his watch, and tsked, "I have an interview to get to. You three finish this, will you? Antonio, you have my number."

  
He strolled off through the back door, leaving Johann, Franz, and Antonio alone in front. Their eyes followed him out and then turned back to Wolfgang, whose agitation seemed to have fizzled out by then. In fact he had started laughing to himself again!

“Ok, so fuck that guy, but, anyway, can I sing now?” he said out to the three-man audience.

Antonio was in utter disbelief. He knew Mozart was a former child star, but did it  _ really _ warrant that much arrogance? No wonder no one would hire him recently. Sussmayr covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, and Stephanie went beet-red.

“Yes, if you think your audition will pass muster,” Salieri answered stoically.

If someone in this room had to stay professional, it was going to be him.

“Oh, it’ll pass muster alright,” Mozart said with a wink, “I wrote this little diddy myself. Hit it, Cavalieri!”

Caterina had the opening notes. Her pitch cascaded upwards, taking on a tone with delicate melancholy. It was as if she was singing into an abyss, pulling back a long-lost love. He had never heard her sound like this before. A few lines in Mozart joined in, starting low and then raising his pitch until it matched her note just an octave under. They sang in unison, sharing a song of cold longing.

He took on the next part solo, lowering his voice to a husky whisper while Cavalieri switched to the violin. The pain he sang of turned to an sort of ecstasy. Wolfgang’s eyes had darkened as he became encompassed by his own lyrics, swaying rhythmically as if the song had become the composer and he it's composition. He made love to the music, and yet somehow still engaged with those watching. The despair and beauty came became tangible in his outstretched fists, Mozart’s emotions became Antonio's.

It was like watching a star come to life and subsequently crash to Earth, to their little stage. He was on fire, alive, foreign to their hearts. Electric currents went through Salieri as he listened to his hypnotic aria, unable to disengage from his performance. As Wolfgang’s pitch rose again, each word saturated in ardor, his heart caught in his throat. The song hit the climax, and he could swear he lost the ability to breathe.

Cavalieri came back in and the song died down, taking on the same melancholic elegance it started with, the embers of Wolfgang’s notes still fresh in Antonio's ears. When they finished, it was all he could do to recompose himself. He was supposed to be the lead of this band, but here he was getting a music boner for a pretentious pretty boy with more fabric around his wrists than sense in his brain.

“So Maestro,” Mozart said directly to him when the song finished, “Too many notes?”

Johann and Franz shot glances at Salieri, apprehensively waiting on his call. Everyone in the room knew two things: One, that Rosenberg had  _ lied.  _ Two, that there was no way on this green earth that they  _ couldn't  _ say yes to Wolfgang joining.

  
“You know, we might get along, Mozart. If you stay in line.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bless quoththewriter for being such a patient beta reader <3
> 
> Feel free to message me with any corrections or suggestions!


End file.
